“Well, too bad. I’m in this thing to the end.”

The end? A poor choice of words. “You almost died tonight, Evie.”

“But I didn’t. Thanks to you and your dastardly ways—which I will forgive you for after you’ve begged for an appropriate amount of time. Or have written me a sonnet. Yes, that’s what I want. A sonnet.”

“Evangeline.”

Sighing, she placed her hands on his shoulders. “I’m still here, and I’m still willing to fight.”

He shook his head, refusing to back down. “You planned to go back to work at the hospital anyway. Why not go now rather than later?”

Her nails dug into him as she clutched his shirt. “What happened to me being a good agent? And why should you get to put your life at risk?”

“Because I—” Love you.

Did he?

Damn it. He did. He really did. The feeling was too strong to deny.

Her eyes widened as his implication became clear. “What? Say it.”

Why not? he thought with a bitter laugh. Why not put everything out there? “Sex has never meant anything to me. It has always been a distraction. A pleasure. A means to an end. Until you. You make me feel things I’ve never felt before. I want to keep you around. I need to keep you around. I’m falling in love with you, Evie.” Shitty phrasing. He wasn’t falling. He’d already gone splat on the pavement.

No longer so brave, she backed away from him. “Blue.”

“I’ve never said those words to another woman. Not even for a case. I can’t lose you. And, Evie, I will be faithful, I swear to you. You will never have to worry about another woman. Not for any reason.”

“Blue,” she said again.

Going to turn him down?

Let’s see if he could change her mind.

Moving faster than she could track, he picked her up and tossed her on the couch. She bounced up and down, and he fell on top of her, pinning her arms over her head.

* * *

“What do you think you’re doing?” Evie demanded. This man had just rocked her entire world. I think I’m falling in love with you. He’d all but gotten down on his knee and offered her a ring, and she had no idea how to feel. Or deal.

What did she know of romantic love? Nothing!

Not how to give it, and certainly not how to receive it. Because receiving it would mean getting used to it. Needing it. Relying on it.

What would happen if it was taken away?

“I’ve relocated the battle,” Blue said easily.

The battle over her right to stay on the case? Or . . . her heart? “As if turf really matters. You won’t be winning.”

“Let’s find out.” He smashed his lips into hers, his tongue thrusting hard, insisting on entrance, slamming past teeth, uncaring when she bit down to prove a point. Panting, he said, “I like it when you fight me.”

Her, too. “Don’t be nice about it. Fight back.”

“Nice? No, not this time.” He wasn’t kind or caring as he stripped her of every piece of clothing. And he wasn’t a gentleman as he stared at her br**sts. He was a man possessed by raw, animal need. “Gorgeous. My mouth is watering for them.” He lowered his head, and as the heat of his mouth enveloped her nipple he sucked, sucked hard, and she cried out, her hands tangling in his hair, tugging at the strands.

“Blue!”

He reached between her legs and worked her with his masterful fingers, thrusting in and out with savage force. “Let’s find your sweet spot, baby.”

He did something he’d never done before. He angled one of his fingers, almost hooking it, and a white-hot lance of pleasure shot through her. Her hips came off the couch and she clutched at him, gasping his name.

“Yeah,” he said, clearly pleased with himself. “Right there.”

“Yes!”

He rubbed her there, again and again, and the pleasure just kept coming. Soon she was writhing and moaning, trying to beg for more, but the words were utterly incoherent. He was edging her closer and closer to insanity, where nothing mattered but what he was doing to her . . . what he would do to her.

“You want me inside you,” he rasped. He trailed kisses along her jaw, then her neck, then the curve of her breast. “Say it.”

“Yes.” A moan. “Want you. Please.” As she spoke, she worked her hand between their bodies and clutched his massive erection. The tip was slick with evidence of his desire.

He didn’t take the time to remove his clothing. Maybe he was worried she would change her mind. She wouldn’t; she was too far gone. He simply ripped open his pants, pinned her hands over her head, and slammed home.

Release came instantly for her, and she screamed, filled, stretched, shuddering around him, barely able to breathe. Floating, flying away as he hammered inside her, again and again.

The delicious brutality never ended. His control was shredded. He showed no mercy, and she was glad. She wanted none. She wrapped her legs around his waist and began to meet him thrust for savage thrust. Though she would have thought it impossible, her own need began to build again. Hotter. Stronger.

She grabbed his head and forced him down for a kiss. It, too, was wicked and without control, their tongues mimicking the motions of their bodies. Around her, she heard lamps and vases falling, shattering. She heard furniture toppling over. And she didn’t care.

“Blue!” She broke apart at the seams as she shot straight into another climax. Satisfaction hit next, leaving her boneless.

This time he followed her, thrusting so hard, he actually moved the couch, inch by inch, until it finally banged into the wall . . . and everything stilled, the storm over.

He collapsed on top of her. “Evie.”

Took a moment for her mind to kick back into gear. What the hell had just happened?

That couldn’t have been sex. It had been too raw. Too primal. Utterly consuming. Powerful. As if she’d done more than give her body, despite the lack of foreplay. As if she’d given pieces of her soul.

Was she falling in love, too?

He rested his head just over her thundering heartbeat. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, his voice ragged.

“No.”

“You were with me all the way?”

“I can’t believe you have to ask.”

He kissed the wild pulse at the base of her neck before rising to his elbows and peering down at her. His gorgeous lavender eyes were dark with contentment and determination.

“Do you trust me?” he asked.

She traced the edge of his lips with a trembling fingertip. “Yes.”




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